


On the Edge of the Night

by Moriavis



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: ColdFlash Week 2019, M/M, Making Out, Tumblr Prompt, season 1 mostly compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-11-02 13:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20754893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moriavis/pseuds/Moriavis
Summary: Barry and Leonard get stuck in a room. Things happen that they didn't exactly expect.





	On the Edge of the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/gifts).

> What? Another story so soon? I was writing this off a tumblr prompt in my ask messages and realized it would also kinda fit for the day 2 prompt of the Fall Coldflash Week: Identity Reveal.
> 
> This is unbetaed because I wrote it in a feverish haze at work and no one is around to read it, so any mistakes are mine.
> 
> Including the butchering of the season one plot, because I couldn't remember what things happened first. C'est la vie!

~*~

Barry shoved at the metal door in front of him as hard as he could, scowling when it didn't have the decency to budge. Snart clapped behind him, slow and really goddamned annoying, and he turned to face him.

"This would a lot faster if you helped me," Barry pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest. Snart was sitting against the far wall, his legs stretched out and his cold gun lying in his lap, looking for all the world like he was just having a good time relaxing, instead of being locked in a small room with a super-powered vigilante who occasionally got him arrested.

"I don't do anything for free, Flash," Snart said. He looked at Barry with disarmingly clear eyes; his goggles had been carefully stowed away in one of his pockets. His gloved hands were interlaced behind his head. He was infuriating.

Barry shook his head. "Not even when we're trapped together and have no way out until someone realizes we're missing?"

Snart shrugged. "I had no other plans tonight."

Barry turned back to the door, heaving a sigh. If he could phase, he'd be able to get out with no trouble. The problem was that he'd only done it once and it wasn't particularly reliable. "You should reconsider your priorities."

"Spending time locked in a room with a cute boy in red leather is my idea of a good Saturday night."

Heat flushed into Barry's face, and he whirled around to glare at Snart again. "It's not red leather."

"My mistake." Snart grinned, not bothering to hide the way he looked at Barry. It was like he was strategizing the best way to get Barry _out_ of his costume.

"You're impossible." Barry sat where he was, his back pressed against the door. Maybe his embarrassment from the whole situation would make him phase out of the room. 

He closed his eyes and willed it.

Nothing happened.

"If I'd known there were other super villains fighting to get your attention, I wouldn't have been so upset when you stood me up."

"_What_? Your heists aren't _dates_, Snart. They're _crimes_."

"To-may-to, to-mah-to." Snart waved his fingers in the air dismissively. He was still smiling, though, and Barry hated how attractive Snart was. He hadn't even been thinking about it. Mostly. "I thrive on negative attention. And honestly, its rude for these other criminals to intrude on my Scarlet Speedster time."

Barry stared at Snart, a little lost. What the hell? "Next time you want to steal something in Central City, let me know in advance. I'll pencil you in on my crime fighting calendar."

Snart pointed at Barry and nodded with something like approval. "_That_ is the kind of forethought I appreciate. Thank you."

Barry considered punching his way out, but that would lead to broken hands and he didn't want to deal with Caitlin afterward. Maybe if he concentrated again… Nope. He vibrated in place, but failed to phase through anything. That was a dead end, too. And Snart was just sitting there, patient and unruffled.

"Fine." Barry's teeth were gritted so hard his jaw ached. "What's the price?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"For you. Getting us out of here. What's your price?"

"I do love seeing you come down to my level." Snart stood in one smooth motion, like he hadn't been sitting on a cold stone floor for the past half hour. Barry was a little impressed despite himself.

In the next second, he bolted to his feet. There was no way he was going to let Snart loom over him. "I won't steal for you."

Snart arched his eyebrow. "I don't need you to steal anything for me. I'm quite capable of taking what I want on my own."

"Then… what is it?"

Snart averted his eyes, scanning the floor as if there was anything there besides the two of them. "I want you to come here and kiss me."

Barry laughed, loud and startled and—oh. Snart's face. He was serious. "You want to kiss me?"

"I want _you_ to kiss _me_," Snart repeated. "That's all. Then we'll blow this popsicle stand."

Barry's heart hammered in his chest, his palms sticky with sweat in his gloves. He tapped the radio receiver in his cowl, but there was still nothing but static. "You're impossible," Barry said again, and he was rewarded—punished?—with another grin.

"It's part of my charm," Snart said, and Barry couldn't possibly—there was no way he could just—

He took a step closer, and Snart remained standing where he was, calm and still. He was treating Barry like some kind of shy wild animal, and somehow that annoyed Barry even more. He took a deep breath, cupped his hands around Snart's jaw, and pulled him forward into a kiss. Snart was actually just a little shorter than him, and the realization popped a little bubble of smug warmth in his chest. He tilted his head, just a little, fitting their mouths together.

It was good.

Snart wasn't kissing him back, but his mouth was warm and dry, and he smelled like something sweet and woodsy.

Okay. Toll paid.

He was about to pull away when Snart's mouth moved beneath his, careful and questing, and the kiss went from good to great.

Snart slid his hand over the back of Barry's neck and squeezed, pulling him in tighter, and his lips parted in a sweet open-mouthed kiss that Barry had to mimic. One kiss became two, three, and eventually he had to pull away, just enough to catch his breath.

Snart had closed his eyes, his lashes long and fluttering a little on his skin, and his mouth was pink and damp. The attraction was like a gut punch, all at once, and he wanted Snart to stay like this, surprised and vulnerable and for once without a bitchy one liner ready to go.

Barry kissed Snart again, slow and deep, sliding his tongue into Snart's mouth—the rasp of Snart's tongue against his sent a jolt of heat and arousal straight to his gut, and he guided Snart forward until his back hit the wall and they fumbled to a stop.

Snart reached for Barry's shoulders, his gloved fingers scrabbling for purchase against Barry's costume; their kiss grew frantic, starving, and there was nothing in Barry's head except for Snart's mouth beneath his and how desperately he needed to get closer.

Snart grunted in surprise when Barry lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the wall—Barry was surprised that he was strong enough too, that the lightning had given him abs and also _biceps_, and then he was the one groaning. Snart wrapped his legs around Barry's waist, the cold gun slipping from the holster and clattering against the ground; neither of them cared. Snart used his new leverage to take control of the kiss, and he tore off Barry's cowl, seizing handfuls of Barry's hair in tight fists. Barry moaned again, the sound edging into a whine as Leonard fucked Barry's mouth with his tongue.

Barry grabbed at Snart everywhere he could reach, shoving the parka off his shoulders and clawing at his jeans. He was electrified with the idea of dropping to his knees, of Snart's hands still in his hair, of Snart _making_ him—

Snart smeared kisses from Barry's mouth to his cheek and set his teeth against the line of Barry's jaw, and Barry clutched at the backs of Snart's thighs to keep him in place. "Barry," Snart gasped, and Barry froze with a shock of horrified understanding.

Snart knew his name.

And his mask was off.

Barry let go of Snart like his hands were burning, his mask back in place in a burst of speed.

He was wrecked, his chest heaving with breath. What had gotten into him? And Snart—Snart looked just as disheveled, his parka low on his arms, his eyes dark and his mouth swollen and red.

"That was—" Snart's voice cracked, and a flash of embarrassment crossed his face as he cleared his throat.

"What did you call me?" Barry asked. God, his lips were still wet from—he swiped the back of his hand over his mouth and resolutely did not think about kissing Snart again when Snart tracked the movement.

"Barry Allen." Snart shrugged his parka back on and grabbed his gun from the floor. "CSI for the CCPD. Foster son of Detective Joe West, and part-time Central City vigilante. I know who you are."

Barry considered denying it, but Snart knew about his family and he wasn't sure he could risk it. And they were still locked in together.

He pulled his cowl down and glared at Snart. "If you go after my family or… or anyone else like you did Caitlin, there's nothing in this world that will stop me from coming after you."

Snart raised his hands in surrender. "You're putting the cart before the horse, kid."

"How did you find out?" Barry crossed his arms over his chest. His pants were still uncomfortably tight, but he was at least grateful for the distraction.

Snart shot Barry an amused look as he adjusted his shirt and wiped his mouth. "You're not as secretive as you think you are. You were so protective over Doctor Snow that I decided to keep an eye on STAR labs. You were the only one I couldn't place, so I followed you. It was easy enough to put two and two together when you disappeared in a streak of lightning."

Barry rubbed his hand over his face, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "Are you blackmailing me? Are you going to tell everyone who I am?"

"Now where's the fun in that, Barry?" Leonard asked. "All I want is this. You leave me alone unless I ask you to pencil me in on your dance card."

Barry shook his head. "I can't do that, not when you're killing people. Things can be replaced if they're stolen. Lives can't." He darted a look over at Snart. "I mean, unless we can come to an agreement. You're a good enough thief that you don't need to kill."

"Appealing to my ego? I like it." Snart nodded once in agreement. "Fine. I won't kill anyone, and you'll let me steal to my heart's content. No one will know your secret but me."

"Fine," Barry bit out, and he rubbed a hand through his hair, tensing when Snart drifted closer. "What?"

Snart gestured between the two of them. "We're not gonna talk about what just happened?"

"Nope." Barry shook his head immediately. "Proximity and adrenaline. Case closed."

Snart actually sighed at that, shaking his head. "Well that's a pity. Still, an agreement _is_ an agreement." He put his glare goggles on and gestured at Barry to move away from the door. Barry skirted behind him and turned his face from the glare of the cold gun, using the opportunity to slip his cowl back on.

Snart froze the door with a beam of freezing cold, and then planted his foot where the metal had gone brittle, kicking it several times before it shattered and the remnants of the door swung open.

The meta that had trapped them looked long gone.

"Thank you," Barry said, "for keeping your word."

"I was stuck in there too." Snart settled the cold gun back in its holster. "I'll let you know when you should pencil in our next date."

"We're not dating, Snart!"

Snart spun around, smiling in what looked like genuine amusement. "You just pinned me to a wall and kissed the shit out of me, Red. You can call me Len."

Barry opened his mouth to protest, but then the radio crackled to life in his ear, and the voices of his team spilled out.

"Barry, please come in, we're going crazy over here. You're not dead, right? Caitlin said you weren't dead!" Cisco.

Barry watched Snart saunter away and sighed, deep and annoyed. "I'm okay. Snart saved me."

Dr. Wells cut in next. "Snart saved you, Mr. Allen? What was he doing there?"

Barry bliked. He'd been so focused on that meta, on getting out of that room, that he hadn't even wondered what Snart was doing there in the first place.

"I don't know," he finally admitted. "And we've got a bigger problem. I'm on my way back."

There was no way he would be able to tell them everything that happened. Attraction aside, Leonard Snart was going to be more of a threat than ever.

But now he knew what his name sounded like in Snart's smooth voice. He knew how he _tasted_. 

He needed to be more careful.

He also couldn't help wondering what would happen the next time Snart wanted his attention.

~*~


End file.
